


Not Your Typical Coffee Shop AU

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Bobby is the greatest, Dark Past, Dark fic, Fluff, John Winchester Bashing, John Winchester Being an Asshole, John Winchester's Bad Parenting, M/M, THERE WILL BE GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF TORTURE IN THIS FIC, TRIGGER WARNING!!!!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-01-18 18:16:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1437937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s a dragging afternoon when Gabriel first sees him. Holy shit. The initial thought is tall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Sight

The coffee shop is small. It isn’t flashy enough to attract business clientele, and not quirky enough to draw in the New Age type. It also wasn’t close enough to campus to attract students. Mostly he got a few regulars and some people just passing through. He doesn’t make much of a profit but that doesn’t matter much to Gabriel Milton.

Gabriel is an artist, a Coffee Shop owner and a PhD student. He doesn’t fit into the starving category for some artist. He is a rather successful one in fact. He has a good agent. One that sells his work for Odin knows what. Gabriel is just glad that he can afford all the candy be usually buys.

Gabriel Milton is a short man. He’s not small damnit he’s fun sized. He is jam packed full fun, and rainbows, and candy. Fuck what Castiel says. The younger man should be glad that Gabriel lets him stay at his house. What is he talking about. He would never let Castiel out by himself. He’s the only family Gabe has left. The only family he’s willing to acknowledge anyways.

The owner casts his eyes about his store while he wipes down the counters. He spilled caramel all over the place trying out a new recipe. The drink turned out delicious the counters however were very sticky.

The aura of the shop is homie. There are a few tables and chairs, a few booths, but mostly there are sofas, bean bags, and lots of book shelves. That is something Gabriel prides himself on, being so well read. He will read anything. Mystery, to historical romance, to science fiction. It doesn’t really matter to him what genre. He just reads. Yeah sure there are books he ends up not liking. Genres that appeal to him more than others, but he always finishes a book. It’s his policy. He will finish it. Even if he hates it.

He keeps the book shelves there in hopes that someone will wander in and pick up one of his favorites. He feels like it would be a book recommending a person.

There are spatterings of artwork around the shop. Only one painting is his. He feels he would be pretentious displaying his own work in his shop. Therefore he always asks people in his ‘Top Secret Artist Club’ (Hey if Rick Castle can have one for his writing buddies then he can have one for his artist buddies) if they had some work he could display.

The one piece that is his is one that isn’t very good in his eyes. He threw it together rather quickly after a horrible nightmare about Lucifer and Michael one night. He was crying even as he put the brush to the canvas. He just knew that he needed to get the picture out of his head and on to some surface.

It’s a dragging afternoon when Gabriel first sees him. _Holy shit_. The initial thought is _tall_. The second one is _layers_. The layers make Gabriel think of unwrapping a present. There is a lot of plaid. His jeans are so tight it looks like he painted them on.  The boy/man carries himself cautiously; slightly hunched over. Like he is aware of how intimidating his height can be and wants to prevent that.

This boy looks like the one you want to bring home to your mama. The one you feed apple pie to and maybe neck with in the back of his daddy’s pick-up truck.

It’s the eyes that make his breath catch though. They look so fucking earnest. Sincere. Intelligent. Haunted. Those are the eyes of someone who has seen some shit. Someone who knows of the dark things in the world and yet still retained some innocence. He wonders what this young beautiful boy has been through.

Gigantor walks toward the counter with his eyes fixed on the menu board. The boy is concentrating so hard that he fails to notice the table and chairs in his way.

“Hey-” Gabriel starts to call out but it’s too late. The giant trips on a chair leg and goes sprawling. He picks himself up a little gingerly and immediately starts apologizing.

“I-I-I am so sorry. I didn’t mean-I wasn’t trying to-”

“Chillax Sasquatch no harm.” Gabriel interrupts as the guy picks up the chair and sheepishly puts it back by the table. He approaches the counter again and chews his lip nervously.

“Are you sure it’s alright? I don’t think I broke anything but I’m not sure.”

“Of course! It’s totally fine. Those things are built to withstand giant clumsy men.”

The man grins and Gabriel nearly faints. His smile is like seeing the sun come out on a really rainy day.

“So Sasquatch (Gabe notices the flinch at the nickname) can I tempt you with one of my special creations? Or possibly Double Chocolaty Chip Frappuccino? How about a Peppermint Hot Chocolate with Whipped Cream and Sprinkles?”

Sasquatch grimaces. “I’d rather not end up with diabetes. Just a large black coffee will do.”

“Gigantor you wound me, and I thought we could be friends. It’ll be $2.50”

The man snorts and hands him the cash. _Drat. He can’t get his name off his card now._ “Name please”

The man looks pointedly around him at the very empty coffee shop and and replies with a simple, “Sam.”

“Ok Samuel! One large black coffee coming right up. I’m Gabriel by the way.”

“It’s Sam,” the man insists and goes to a nearby table. He’s halfway across the room when he stops short. His eyes are fixed on a painting on the opposite wall. He stands there captivated by the artpiece. He walks toward it and looks at the card at the bottom. ‘Discord’ it reads.

It’s Gabriel’s piece. It is of a face. One half bathed in life; the eye looking hopeful and happy. The other half is cast in darkness adding a more sinister and tortured glint to the face. It was supposed to represent the two halves of the same coin. Michael was the light but he was also dark. Just as Lucifer was dark but he was also light.

Sam finally tears his eyes away from it piece and turns to Gabriel. “Who’s the artist?”

“Not sure,” Gabriel lies easily, “must be from one of the local artists. They ask us to display work sometimes to garner interest. Why? Do you like it?”

“Yeah,” Sam breathes. “It one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.”

_Well shit. No one has ever said that about a painting of his. Not even the clients that pay thousands for one of his works._

The man shakes himself out of his revelry and retrieves his coffee from the counter. He goes to a table and starts unpacking his backpack. By the look of the textbooks the boy is pulling out of his bag he is an upperclassman. Probably studying for midterms judging by the time of year. Gabriel himself was working on his doctorate in Social Psychology.

It isn’t until an hour later that Gabe realized that Sam placed himself in a booth that has a perfect vantage point for the painting he was so transfixed on earlier. He keeps glancing up at it every once in a while as if he is reminding himself it’s still there.

Several hours later the after-work rush is in full swing and the coffee shop owner looks up to find the booth devoid of tall, cute, college student. He is slightly disappointed that he didn’t even notice him leave. There was a line five people long and his evening employee wasn’t here yet. He is so going to fire Castiel. Eventually.


	2. First Sight: Sam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam's point of view.

Sam Winchester rolled out of bed at 5 am that day. He put on some running clothes and grabbed a bottle of water. He tiptoed around the apartment so he wouldn’t wake his big brother. He’d had another nightmare last night. This one wasn’t as bad as some but it still had left him shaking as he ripped himself out of a deep sleep.

He remembered nothing but darkness and the glint of a knife from the night before. Sam was just glad that he hadn’t woken up screaming. He wanted Dean to get enough sleep, even if the younger brother couldn’t.

He went running only on the days where he had nightmares. He went running a lot. On days that he slept the whole night through he would wake up and cook breakfast for Dean before heading to his first class. Dean always smiled at him on those days, bickering with him at the small table in the kitchen.

There hadn’t been many of those days lately.

Dean often worried about his brother. The Winchesters had been through hell. Sam even more so. Dean tended to bury himself in his work with cars, while Sam tended to get lost in his textbooks. It was the main reason that Sam was such a good student. He had maintained a 4.0 through all four years and he would graduate top of his class come May.

Sam stepped out into the early spring air, took a deep breath, and started running. He never really had a destination in mind. He just ran. Ran for miles. He rarely passed any people this early in the morning. People usually weren’t out and about until a couple hours later. He sometimes encountered runners like himself. These people tended to pace themselves beside him for a mile or so before running off in their own direction.

Sam was grateful for these people. He could hear their feet hitting the pavement beside them. Hear them take deep breaths but he wasn’t required to speak. He existed with these strangers in companionable silence until it was time to go their separate ways.

His dark thoughts turned into a haze in his mind as he felt his legs burn. As he felt the pull of oxygen through his lungs. As he felt sweat run down his brow he slowly forgot the panic he felt from his nightmare. This was why he ran. It cleared his head and he felt at peace.

He was always running. Running from his father. Running from his problems. Running from the worried gaze he got when Dean thought he wasn’t looking. Maybe one day he would feel safe enough to stop. He hopes that day comes soon.

Sam was headed back to the apartment when he saw it. It was a few blocks down from Dean’s Auto Shop. ‘Bean Me Up’ was the name out front. It made Sam draw up short. He peered inside. It didn’t appear to be open just yet but it will still before six. He made a note to stop by after class and check it out. Since it was close to his brother’s place he could stop in a do some studying until Dean closed up shop. With that thought in mind he ran the last mile back home.

***

Class was especially boring that day. He was done by 2:40 on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, so he was at the coffee shop by three. He walked in and heard the door chime. He took a step toward the counter and saw the unusually short man behind it. He seemed to be late twenties. He had hair longer than Sam’s and had something of a mischievous glint to his eyes.

He looked up at the menu board and started toward the register. The next think he knew he was sprawled out on the floor after taking down a chair. He gets to his feet already apologizing. Why does he have to be such a clumsy oaf?

“I-I-I am so sorry. I didn’t mean-I wasn’t trying to-” _Ouch! Those chairs are hard._ Sam picks up the fallen chair and puts it at the table.

“Chillax Sasquatch no harm.” _Sasquatch?_

Sam supposed that he should get used to the nicknames. He was rather tall. Sam chews on his lip absentmindedly. “Are you sure it’s alright? I don’t think I broke anything but I’m not sure.” At this he glanced back at the chair trying to see if it was damaged in any way.

“Of course! It’s totally fine. Those things are built to withstand giant clumsy men,” the small man replied good naturedly.

Sam grinned outright at that. He was glad that the barista was so chill. His eyes flit back over the menu. He has no idea what to order. He isn’t that experienced with lattes and mochas and cappuccinos. Growing up there hadn’t been any time. You just got a black coffee and hurried out the door.

“So Sasquatch can I tempt you with one of my special creations? Or possibly Double Chocolaty Chip Frappuccino? How about a Peppermint Hot Chocolate with Whipped Cream and Sprinkles?” _I should really get used to those nicknames_.

“I’d rather not end up with diabetes. Just a large black coffee will do,” Sam says as he starts to fish his wallet out of his jeans.

“Gigantor you wound me, and I thought we could be friends. It’ll be $2.50” _At least the dude has an imagination when it comes to nicknames_. He fishes out a few dollar bills and hands them to the barista. As the man takes the money his face falls a little.

“Name please?” _So that was what the frown was about. He just wanted my name._ Sam looked pointedly around the empty place before replying with a simple, terse, “Sam.”

“Ok Samuel! One large black coffee coming right up. I’m Gabriel by the way.” Sam shudders at that particular name due to the memories it drags up but the smaller man doesn’t notice. “It’s Sam,” the taller man insists and shakes the terror off.

He turns to find a table and is brought up short by what he sees on the wall. All his breath leaves him in an instant. It’s, for lack of a better word, perfect. It is beautiful, and terrible, and horrifying, and peaceful all at the same time. He slowly, reverently, walks toward the painting with the intent of finding the artist’s name. It isn’t there. It simply reads ‘Discord.’ It’s the most perfect representation of Sam that he has ever seen in his life.

He turns to the barista, Gabriel. “Who’s the artist?”

“Not sure,” comes the reply, “must be from one of the local artists. They ask us to display work sometimes to garner interest. Why? Do you like it?”

Sam tries not to be too disappointed. He inhales sharply, “Yeah,” he breathes out. “It one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.”

Sam then shakes himself and grabs his coffee, completely oblivious to the inner turmoil of the sassy barista.

He pulls out his computer and buries himself in the “Ethics of Law.” Unconsciously he finds himself glancing up at the painting every so often. When he does he feels Gabriel’s eyes on him. A few hours later Sam packs his things up and heads out the door. As he walks to Dean’s garage he feels lighter than he has in weeks. When he finally collapses in bed that night he doesn’t have a single dream.

 


	3. Early Bird Gets the Worm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel was feeling particularly motivated one morning.

Gabriel was feeling particularly motivated one morning. He decided to head to the shop early to set up for the day. The air was slightly chilly that Friday morning. He parked his red Volkswagen Beetle on the corner and walked toward the front door of his shop. He glanced up at the sign over the entrance. _Bean Me Up_. He giggled to himself everytime he saw it. Today was no exception.

He worked the key into the lock and opened the door. Well tried to open the door anyways. Dam he keeps meaning to get this fixed. The door tends to stick on particularly cold mornings. Today just happened to dawn with a particularly cold morning. He throws himself against the door but to no avail. He checks the lock again. It’s unlocked. Just stuck.

The small shop owner is about to call his brother when he hears someone run up behind him. He grips the keys a little tighter intending to stab them into his would be attacker when he hears a familiar voice. “Need a little help?” Gabriel turns to the speaker and looks up, and keeps looking up. Eventually he reaches the face of none other than Sam Winchester. The man had been in and out of Gabriel's coffee shop several times over the last few months and Gabe wished he could say that he knew then young man pretty well. Alas Sam had yet to lower his walls. They chatted a little about the art on the walls but nothing of any value.

The man is in jogging pants, tennis shoes, and a sweatshirt. He also has on a rainbow head band. Gabriel tries not to laugh. He fails.

Sam follows Gabriel’s eyes and sighs. “Dean gave it to me as a joke when I came out in tenth grade.”

Gabe chokes on air when he hears that. He coughs to cover it up. He turns back to the door and gestures, “The door sometimes sticks when it’s cold out. I can’t seem to get it open.” He peers into the shop wishing there was a back door that didn’t open onto a creepy alley. He never went out that door. _Hey he didn’t want to get axe murdered, cut him some slack._

Sam gently pushes Gabriel out of the way and the smaller man tries not shiver at the feel of firm muscle underneath the clothes. He had a suspicion that the tall man was hiding something under all those layers. Sam grips the handle and pushes. The door opens with seemingly little effort on Sam’s part.

“Are you freakishly strong or something? I put my whole weight into trying to open that door.” At this Gabriel reached out and grabbed Sam’s upper arm. He squeezed and whistled. “Damn son you have some arms. What do you even do for a living?”

Sam gerked his arm out of Gabriel's hands. “I’m just a college student who likes to stay in shape. Is there anything wrong with that?” Sam looks distinctly uncomfortable. He starts to hunch in on himself enough that the shop owner’s Psychology senses are tingling. He must have hit a nerve.

Gabriel steps across the threshold. He turns back to the taller man. “Do you want to come in? I’ll make you black coffee on the house.” Sam frowns, but steps inside.

“Actually I think that this time I’ll take whatever you make me.”

Gabriel gapes. “Are you sure about that Sasquatch? I tend to get a little carried away with my caramel.” Sam’s mouth quirks up at that and he just nods.

As Gabriel starts turning on the machines all the while taking small glances at the young man. He didn’t get to look his fill with all the layers the man usually wore. This time is different. His running pants were a little on the tight side and they hugged the man’s ass in all the right places. He was just lamenting the fact that he couldn’t see what the man had up top when Sam started to peel his sweatshirt off.

Gabriel felt his mouth drop open. Sam was freaking built like a brick wall. The tight under armor shirt left nothing to the imagination. The shop owner could see his pectorals clearly though the thin material and his arms looked like they could punch through a brick wall. Gabriel looked down at himself. He was a little pudgy in places, a little soft around the middle, but Sam make him look like a lazy bum. _Maybe I need to lay off the candy. And the ice cream. And the pastries. Gabriel sighed. Who am I kidding? I love sweets too much._

Gabriel went back to work. As the machines were heating up he walked around the counter to stand beside where Sam was looking at his painting once again.

“So kiddo, what are you doing out and about this early?”

“I go for a run most mornings. It helps clear my head.”

“What do you have in your head at the asscrack of dawn? How have you been up long enough to have any thoughts other than ‘dear god let me go back to sleep’?” Sam snorts and shakes his head.

“I have bad nightmares most nights and running helps. I can’t go back to sleep so I might as well do something. I can’t sit still and study, my brother isn’t up yet so I can’t talk to someone, so I run.” Gabriel opens his mouth to answer when the machines behind the counter beep. Gabriel sighs and heads over to them.

“Well I don’t know about you, but when I have bad dreams, a nice cup of diabetes always helps me.” The shop owner bustles around behind the counter making his speciality, Cinnamon Roll in a Cup. As he tops the cup off with copious amounts of caramel Sam turns to him. “Do you think you could find out who the artist is for ‘Discord’? I’d really like to meet them.”

Gabriel feels his face heat. “I’ll see what I can do kiddo. In the mean time you should enjoy the wonder that is Cinnamon Roll in a Cup. This is my most popular drink.” He hands the cup to Sam with a flourish.

Sam takes a sip. “Holy shit! That is amazing.” Gabe smirked, “Isn’t it? Family recipe.”

Sam blinks. “Wait, do you own this shop?”

“Well duh.”

“Oh I thought you just worked here.”

“No siree. I get my little brother to manage the place when I am in class.”

“Wait. You go to Stanford too? You look too old to be an undergrad. What are you studying? Are you a Master’s student?”

“Whoa slow down there Curious George. Yes I go to Stanford. I am a PhD student there studying Social Psychology. What about you? What are you studying?”

Sam glared at the nickname but answered none the less, “I am a senior studying Pre-Law. I graduate in May and have already been accepted into Stanford Law. I start in August.”

Gabriel whistled. “You want to be a prosecutor don’t you?”

“Yeah...how did you know?”

“You’ve got the look of someone who wants to put bad guys away.”

“Well I guess. When I was a baby a guy killed my mother and he got off on a technicality. He kept hurting people. I don’t want that to happen to anyone else. I want to make sure people feel safe.” Sam paused, "I don't know why I keep telling you things. Maybe it's your face." 

Gabriel was about to say something but Sam happened to glance up at the clock in the shop.

“Shit! I’ve got to go. My brother’s probably worried. I normally get home around 6:30. I’m sorry but I enjoyed talking to you.”

At this Sam tossed the remainder of his coffee back and threw the cup in the trash. He was out the door and running down the street before Gabriel could get a word in. He looked up at the clock. 6:45. S _urely his brother wouldn’t get so worked up over his brother getting home fifteen minutes later than usual. Would he?_

 


	4. Chapter 4

_Darkness. A knife glints. A sadistic laugh. A sharp cry of pain. A whimper._

Sam wakes up screaming. Cold sweat drips down his chest as he sits up in his bed. He looks around. He sees his textbooks on his desk with the laptop sitting open on top of them. He turns to the door half expecting to see Dean rush in because of the yelling. The door remains unopened. Dean must not have heard him. The younger Winchester gets out of bed and dons his running pants and puts on a sweatshirt over his under armor. Before he steps out of his room he grabs the rainbow headband his brother gave to him. He sneaks out of the house and starts to run.

 

This isn’t his normal run, a nice 7 or 8-minute mile. This is a flat out sprint for as long as he can keep it up. He runs like that for a good twenty minutes. His lungs are burning and his legs ache. It’s a good ache though. One that helps him erase his nightmare/memory. He doesn’t ever remember what he dreams, just vague impressions.

 

He doesn’t need to remember the nightmare though. He remembers the actual event. It will be burned into his memory for his entire life. There is nothing that he wouldn’t give to forget. His brother tries to help but there is no way Dean could understand just how traumatic what he went through was. Sam supposes that he should go back to see Ellen. The middle-aged woman had been treating him for several years now. She had been there for many sleepless nights and that summer before the start of his freshman year when he stopped eating.

 

Sam slows to a quick jog and rests his lungs before he beings another hard run. He slows again as he approaches his new favorite coffee shop. He sees a man trying to force open the door. Sam goes a little closer intending to stop the intruder. He relaxes when he recognizes Gabriel. The short man is obviously having trouble opening his own door. It is rather cold out so the door may very well be stuck. Being the good Samaritan that he is, the Winchester goes to offer his assistance.

 

As he gets closer to the door he sees Gabe tense. When he turns slightly Sam sees that the shop owner has his keys tightly gripped in his hands, ready for a fight. His stance is all wrong though. His center of gravity is shifted to far forward. Sam could knock the guy on his ass in less than a second. The taller man gets it though. He knows what it is like to be scared of every shadow, every noise, every man who looks even remotely like Alistair.

 

“Need a little help?” Sam asks.

 

Gabriel spins around a looks up. His eyes land on the headband and the barista is clearly trying not to laugh. If the way his face screws up is any indication. Gabriel eventually loses the battle he is having and starts to giggle. Sam responds with what Dean has affectionately termed, ‘bitch face #15.’

 

“Dean gave it to me as a joke when I came out in the tenth grade.”

 

The barista starts to cough as he turns back to the door. Apparently the door is stuck. After helping Gabriel open it he turns to Sam and after going on about his strength grabs Sam’s arm. At the touch the Winchester jerks.

 

“I’m just a college student who likes to stay in shape. Is there anything wrong with that?”

 

It’s just an excuse. Sam stays in fighting shape because he will never allow himself to get hurt again. All through high school and some college he did underground fight club stuff, but after Dean found out and subsequently kicked his ass six ways to Sunday Sam had just been going to a gym. It was easy enough to find some pompous dick bag that was full of himself enough to challenge Sam. They always lost but it kept the Winchester fresh. Sometimes when he was in a good mood Dean could be convinced to step into the ring with his brother. Those fights were always interesting and lasted a long time. A crowd would gather and bets would be exchanged. Sam didn’t always win those, but it would be close every time.

 

The barista steps through the coffee shop door and turns back to Sam, the comment about his strength and Sam’s defensive reaction seemingly forgotten.

 

“Do you want to come in? I’ll make you a black coffee on the house.”

 

“Actually this time I’ll take whatever you make me.”

 

That shocks the smile right off Gabriel’s face. “Are you sure about that Sasquatch? I tend to get a little carried away with my caramel.”

 

Sam smirks and nods, stepping across the threshold.

 

Gabriel starts to turn on the machines and as the building heats up Sam starts to get hot. He takes off his sweatshirt and leaves it on a chair. He walked over to the wall and just gazed at that painting he loved. _Maybe I can earn enough money to buy it. It can’t be that expensive if it’s in a coffee shop. I wonder if Dean will give me some more shifts at the garage._

“So kiddo, what are you doing out and about this early?” Gabriel interrupts his thoughts.

 

“I go for a run most mornings. It helps clear my head.”

 

The conversation continues until Sam gets up his courage.

 

“Do you think you could find out who the artist is for ‘Discord’? I’d really like to meet them.” _And get them to sell me the painting._

“I’ll see what I can do kiddo,” comes the reply. “In the mean time you should enjoy the wonder that is Cinnamon Roll in a Cup. This is my most popular drink."

 

Sam raises the cup to his lips expecting to hate it. He is pleasantly surprised. “Holy shit! This is amazing.”

 

The barista smirks at him obviously pleased at Sam’s reaction. “Isn’t it? Family recipe.”

 

That gives Sam pause. _Family recipe? Wouldn’t that mean-?_ “Wait. Do you own this shop?”

 

Gabriel rolls his eyes, “Well duh.”

 

“Oh I thought you just worked here.”

 

Sam finds it so easy to talk to Gabriel. He doesn’t know what it is about the man but it makes Sam relax, let down his guard in a way he can only manage with his brother. He is so drawn into the conversation he barely notices the time pass. When he glances up at the clock he freaks out.

 

“Shit! I’ve got to go. My brother is probably worried. I usually get home around 6:30. I’m sorry but I enjoyed talking to you.”

 

Sam regretfully tossed the rest of his coffee and ran out the door, leaving a confused Gabriel in his wake. He ran down the sidewalk and hoped Dean wasn’t freaking out too much. His brother would definitely be awake right now and Sam wasn’t there.

 

Sam ran up the stairs and entered the apartment. He was immediately accosted by a worried Dean.

 

“Are you ok? Did something happen? Why are you late?”

 

Dean continued to fire off questions rapidly not allowing Sam to get a word in. Ever since Dean took Sam away from John Winchester the brothers were inseparable. What happened to Sam all those years ago had scared both brothers. Dean always needed to know where his brother was. Sam always made sure the GPS on his phone was on and even carried a spare in his backpack in case something happened to the main one. Both brothers had their Concealed and Carry Licenses along with many hours of military grade weapons training. Sam carried a Butterfly Knife in his boot most days and never listened to music while he was running or walking to class. He wanted to be aware of his surroundings at all times. Fool me once shame on you, but fool me twice and you will get hurt.

 

After calming his brother down he grabbed some breakfast. The house phone rang. Dean went into the other room to answer it. A few moments later, “Sammy! It’s for you.”

 

Sam walked into the living room and took the phone from his brother. “Sam Winchester speaking.”

 

_Sam Winchester speaking,_ Dean mouthed teasingly. Sam punched his brother and turned away with an eye roll.

 

“Mr. Winchester?” the woman on the phone called out. “ I am calling to inform you that Alistair Hamilton’s execution date has been set. After the grievous wrong that he has done you and your family we are required to inform you and let you know that should you wish to you and your brother are allowed to attend.”


	5. Chapter 5

It’s been three weeks. Three long weeks of no Sam Winchester. Maybe he scared him off. Maybe he died. Maybe his brother killed him for being fifteen minutes late. Oh well, Gabriel has more important things to worry about. Like his brother, Castiel.

 

Tomorrow is the anniversary of their mother’s death and Castiel always disappears for a few days. Gabriel needs to find him. The shop owner also needs to do inventory (Castiel usually does it), add more research to his dissertation, work in his studio, and take his car to the shop. He does not have time to worry about a cute, eight-foot tall sasquatch damnit.

 

Gabriel mentally catalogues the places that the youngest Milton could be. There are three that he knows of. One is the public library. _Oh yay two birds with one stone._ Gabriel hops in his trusty almost-clunker and heads off to the public library. _Maybe I’ll see Sam there. He’s a student. Maybe he hasn’t come by because he’s been busy with work. NO! Stop thinking about Sam!_

 

Gabriel arrives at the library after nearly driving everyone else of the road. As he walks up to the door of the ostentatious building he has a close call with a petite woman carrying a stack of books that look like they are heavier than she is. He backpedals quickly to give her some room. She must be a body builder. Her tiny frame should not be able to support that much weight. He turns back to the building and goes up the steps to the large double glass doors. He hasn’t ever really been in the downtown public library so there are no expectations on how well stocked their psychology section will be. He pushes open the ridiculously heavy door and goes inside.

 

Gabe looks around. It is a typical downtown library. More pomp and circumstance than a location conducive to a successful study session but people like to know their tax dollars are making pretty buildings. It does seem to have what he is looking for though. After searching every carrel and every desk and not seeing his brother, Gabriel decides to work for a couple hours. Castiel may just need some time. Plus Gabe knows that his brother would never go far.

 

He goes up to the desk where a woman who looks far to young to have such a pinched look on her face and puts on his most charming smile. “Hi there! My name’s Gabriel!” The woman looks up and when she sees the beaming smile her face relaxes and her eyes start to look less intimidating.

 

“Well hello Gabriel. What can I do for you today?” If Gabe wasn’t pining for a certain jolly green giant her slightly sexy librarian look might do it for him. Her red sweater did nice things for her long brown hair and that high collar was surely hiding a knockout body.

 

“I was wondering if you could direct me to your cultural research section? I have my dissertation to work on.”  
  
“Oh are you a Doctorate Student at the University?”

 

“Well as a matter of fact I am. I hope to graduate in May with my PhD.”

 

“Well we don’t get many doctorate students in here. It’s a little to far from campus to attract that crowd. It is such a shame though. They always put their books back when they are finished. Can I see your library card?”

 

“I don’t actually have one. I usually use the university’s library. I just needed a new set of materials.”

 

The librarian looks apologetic. “The section you want is restricted to library card holders. I’m so sorry.”

 

Gabe’s smile turns flirtatious. “But you could make an exception for little old me couldn’t you? I promise I won’t tell any one.” He crosses his finger over his chest. “Cross my heart.”

 

She blushes and doesn’t that do nice things for her face, “Well I suppose it wouldn’t hurt just this once

 

She takes him to a small room off the main library and unlocks the door. “Here you go. Everything you need should be in here, but if there is something you just can’t find let me know

 

“Thanks so much!” As she walks out the door Gabriel unpacks his computer and settles down.

 

Gabriel loses track of time as he gets into his zone. His dissertation is coming along nicely but he lacks real world examples. His research is in cultural differences and how culture has changed over time. It isn’t like he can drop everything and travel to Brazil. He can site other people’s research but he needs to get some of his own. He has a trip to Japan planned but that isn’t for another two months. He will have to flesh out what he already has until he can do some practicalresearch of his own.

 

About two and a half hours later Gabriel comes out of his dissertation trance and looks at the time. _Shit! I really have to get going._ He packs his things up and tosses another flirty smile to the librarian. She blushes again. _Yep. Still got it._

 

He parks outside Bean Me Up and goes in. Charlie Bradbury is behind the counter bantering with one of Castiel’s friends Balthazar. He only hears a snippet of their conversation as he passes.

 

“I don’t care how hot Clooney is, he’s old. He may not even be able to get it up half the time. You don’t get that problem with a girl. Fingers and tongues last longer than dicks.” Charlie never did like men.

 

“But what about arthritis?”

 

“If I’m still having sex when I’m old enough to get arthritis-Oh hey Boss!”

 

“Was Castiel here today?” Gabriel smirked when he saw Balthy glare.

 

Balthazar answered with an eye roll.

 

“Yeah he came in to do inventory. He said that you had a lot on your plate today so he wanted to make it easier on you. Hey Gabey. Would you rather have sex with Scarlett Johansson or Chris Evans?”

 

Gabriel thought about it. “Evans. Gotta have those arms pinning me against the wall.”

 

“Oh please, Gabe, even I know you are too toppy to be manhandled.” Gabriel grinned at Balthazar’s statement, but thought how he wouldn’t mind being thrown on the bed and ravished by a certain jolly green giant. Gabe shook himself out of those thoughts and took his leave of the two squabbling baristas upstairs to his studio. The entire upper floor was soundproofed so he could work in peace and quiet. It was quite valuable at times, but for now the science just put him on edge. He tried calling Castiel’s cell again. No answer.

 

He walked over to his stack of blank canvases. He selected one and put it on his easel. Gabriel had watched a YouTube video recently where an Asian man screamed as he painted yellow stripes on canvas. It looked like a great stress reliever. He wanted to try it. Gabe glanced over at the painting he had removed from the coffee shop wall. He had planned on sending it to Sam but didn’t know a way to get his address. It was frustrating. _Oh well. Time to scream at some paint._

 

He decided to use gold instead of yellow. Yellow was such a nasty color. Who needed yellow? It had nothing to do with the fact that Sam’s eyes reminded him of the sun. _Nope. Non. Gold was just a completely random color. Totally random._

 

“AAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so here is a link to the video i was talking about in the chapter if anyone is interested in watching it
> 
>  
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AM5truKQPSE
> 
> I would like to give so many thanks to the wonderful librocubucularist for being my beta for this chapter. Hopefully she will continue to give me feedback!!!


	6. Chapter 6

Sam Winchester was drunk. Sam Winchester was beyond drunk. When he entered the nondescript bar near his last class a few hours ago he was angry; angry at himself for being weak, angry at Alistair for what he did to Sam and angry about the fact that he no longer had something to be angry at.

 

Alistair was dead. He was fucking dead and Sam still had to live with the nightmares, the guilt, and inability to trust anyone other than Dean. Alistair was sentenced to death by euthanasia more than three years ago and he was only executed this morning. The Winchester brothers had been allowed to attend but after no less than four panic attacks, three broken plates, and lots of tears, Dean out his foot down. They would not attend.

 

Sam looked down at his phone. Dean was calling him, again. There hadn’t been more than a five-minute period over the last several hours where his phone had been silent. Dean was worried. Sam hadn’t come home after his classes for the first time since the boys moved in together. Sam turned his phone off. He didn’t want Dean to know where he was. His brother would just drag him away from the bar.

 

He looked around the place he ended up for the first time since he walked in the door. It wasn’t small. There were too many people. It made Sam uncomfortable but he needed the anonymity. The lighting was very dim so colors didn’t really stand out but there was a dance floor not far from where he sat at the bar. The bar itself was sticky and dirty, but it was a college bar after all. It was just like the ones that John Winchester would find himself in after a successful “hunt.”

 

John Winchester was a bounty hunter. He was a good one too. He taught himself the trade while chasing down his wife’s murderer. Unfortunately that was the only one he never caught. It didn’t stop him from trying. He dragged his two sons across the continental United States for sixteen years. The madness only stopped when Dean Winchester turned 18.

 

As soon as he was legal he grabbed his brother and ran. He got his GED, started working two full time jobs and made Sammy finish high school. He pinched and saved and counted pennies for two years so his little brother could go to college. He made Sam go to therapy and did his best to provide a healthy, safe home away from their obsessive and abusive father.

 

The therapy had helped. Sam had come to terms with what had happened and had helped the police track down Alistair. Now that he was finally dead Sam might just be able to breathe again. He should probably start with heading home and prevent Dean from having a heart attack. Maybe a brisk walk in the chilly night air would help clear his head.

 

Just as he started to raise from his stool a mostly one-sided conversation a few stools down drew his attention.

 

“Come on sugar. Now I know you ain’t got no boyfriend. Not with a face like that. You should take what you can get. This is a very generous offer.”

 

“I would sooner sleep with a pig.”

 

“Don’t be like that sweetie.” The frankly grotesque man in question was not to be deterred by his mark, a mid-twenties woman with an unfortunate nose. However she was much better looking than the sleazy man who was hitting on her. Although hitting on her was not the proper phrase for what was happening.

 

The man grabbed her thigh and in response she grabbed his beer off the bar and dumped it on his head.

 

“Leave me alone!” The woman was nearly yelling.

 

Sam made eye contact with the bar tender and jerked his head toward the pair. The barkeep nodded and turned away. Sam took this as permission to intervene on the woman’s behalf. He rose from his stool and went up to them and stood behind the woman.

 

“I believe the lady asked you to leave her alone.” Sam said, he didn’t want to cause a scene and embarrass the woman but he would do what he had to. He couldn’t stand men like this. He had a personal problem with anyone who knowingly stepped across boundaries and harassed people.

 

The man sneered at Sam and replied, “You should mind your own business pal, if you know what’s good for you. I suggest you get lost.”  
  
“That’s a wonderful idea! Ma’am what is your name?”

 

She smiled gratefully at Sam and murmured, “Sandra.”

 

“Well Sandra where do you think we should go? I know a great bar across town. It has more polite clientele.” Sam gestured to the door and Sandra started to rise out of her stool.

 

“Now wait here a minute. No one said anything about you taking the bitch with you. You get out of here and leave the girl.”

 

It was then that Sam stepped around Sandra and faced the man completely. He drew himself to his full, and impressive, height. Sam stood in front of the man with the kind of confidence that only comes from living a rough life. The Winchester knew that even totally skunked he could come out of a fight with little to no damage. He was a skilled fighter and had a lot of height against his maybe opponent.

 

“I believe that you should be the one to leave. I have no intention of letting you go anywhere with this lady. She deserves more than your piggish self.” Sam made to turn back to Sandra when Piggy started to pull his fist back.

 

Sam let instinct take over. He stood in front of Sandra and intercepted the punch with his palm. He grabbed the man’s arm and twisted it behind his back. Sam pushed him forward and then kicked him in the butt. Cursing, Piggy went careening to the ground. Humiliated, picked himself up and then hurried out of the bar.

 

‘Thank you so much. I didn’t know how to keep him off of me.” Sandra visibly brightened after Piggy skulked out of sight.

 

“No problem. My name’s Sam.” He stuck out his hand for her to shake and she responded with a hug. It took all his willpower not to respond violently. He stiffened and she took notice of his language.

 

“Am I really that disgusting?” She sat back down on her stool with a self deprecating smile.

 

“No it’s not that at all.” Sam rushed to console her sitting in the stool next to her; the one that Piggy just vacated. “I just have a bad case of PSTD. I don’t respond well to sudden touching. It has nothing to do with you.”

 

Sandra studied him with more than a little interest. “You don’t seem old enough to have spent time overseas. You also don’t look military.”

 

Sam responded with a bitter laugh. “PTSD isn’t limited to soldiers.”

 

“I know,” she paused. “You want to talk about it?”

 

“Not particularly no, but thank you for the offer. Not many people care enough to ask me that.”

 

Sandra opened her purse and pulled out a business card and slid it across the bar towards Sam. “Just in case you ever need to talk. Consider it a thank you for what you did for me tonight.” She then picked up her jacket. “It was nice meeting you Sam.”

 

Sam watched as she slid off her stool and made her way through the sea of pool tables and out the door. He picked up the business card. _Dr. Sandra Moore, Psychologist_. He smiled to himself and put the card into his wallet. Finally time to face the music. He turned on his phone to call Dean. There was no way he could make it home on his own.


	7. Chapter 7

Gabriel was walking down the street around 1 am when he passed a dive bar and out stumbled none other than Sam Winchester. The young man looked totally skunked, as well as exhausted; the kind of exhaustion one gets after little to no sleep over the course of a week. He could barely stand up and Gabriel felt sudden pang of heartache. Sam looked so forlorn.

 

“Hey kiddo.” Gabriel held out his hands in hopes of steadying Sam.

 

Sam whipped around to face the café owner. “GABEY!! I HAVEN’T SEEN YOU IN FOREVER. I MISSED YOU!” Sam’s face suddenly lit up in a thousand watt smile. It made Gabriel’s heart nearly stop. Sam stumbled forward a few steps before grabbing Gabe’s hand.

 

“Come with me. You can walk me home,” Sam slurred.

 

“Walking home holding hands. Aren’t we moving a little fast? I haven’t even taken you to dinner yet,” Gabriel replied with a smirk. He liked drunken Sam. There were fewer walls.

 

Sam giggled. “You can take me to dinner after I finish my finals next week.”

 

“Is that a promise, because I’d really like to take you to dinner. That is, dinner before I thoroughly wreck you in bed later than night.”

 

Sam made a face at that. “Maybe no wrecking until later.”

 

“Ok I’ll agree to that, but only because your frowny face is the most adorable thing I have ever seen.” Gabriel started walking down the sidewalk, but was jerked back by Sam’s hand in his.

 

“My apartment is this way,” Sam smiled and started tugging Gabriel in the opposite direction.

 

***

 

As they walked, well Gabe walked, Sam stumbled, down the street Gabriel couldn’t help but glance up at the Winchester. He looked drawn, tired, but strangely peaceful. Like he had just gone through hell but could see the light at the end of the tunnel. What ever had happened to this beautiful boy had not broken him, just made him stronger. _Wow I am full of clichés today. I go on a moonlit walk to angst and the object of grief literally stumbles into my path. Maybe we will even tell each other about our childhoods as we skip through daisies. That’s a cliché isn’t it?_

“So Sam, I have to ask. Why are you stumbling out of dive bars at o’dark thirty drunk off your ass? I didn’t think there was that much trouble in our relationship,” Gabriel smiled up at the taller man.

 

Sam frowned. “If I told you, you may not like me anymore.”

 

“Try me. I’ve been through some shit too Sam. I may be able to help.”

 

Sam’s face became closed off and hard. He looked off into the distance, strangely composed for a man who could barely put one foot in front of the other. “Not like this,” was the curt reply that effectively ended the conversation.

 

Gabriel’s gaze became sharp and assessing. “ You are a brave man Sam Winchester.”

 

“What makes you say that?” Sam looked down with a positively hilarious bemused expression.

 

“Well as an artist and a psychology student I have the ability to read people. You have been through hell and back, and it only made you kind.”

 

“I didn’t know you were an artist.” Sam looked as though he was trying to remember something that was just slipping away. A few seconds later and his expression cleared. “You’ll have to show me your studio sometime.”

 

“What makes you think I have a studio? I could just paint in my living room like the poor college student I am,” Gabriel grinned up at the Winchester.

 

“College student you may be but poor you are definitely not. You run a failing coffee shop. You don’t have much clientele. If you were poor you would have closed down years ago. That shop has been open for at least ten years.”

 

“How’d you get to be such an observant person? That trait is found in mostly cops not lawyers.” Gabriel felt slightly guilty about prying information out of a drunk man, but only slightly. The Winchester was too closed off. It would do him some good to open up, albeit unconsciously.

 

“My father was bounty hunter of sorts. He trained my brother and me how to fight, how to tell if someone was lying, how to shoot, maim, kill, you name it. After having it ingrained in your skull since basically birth you tend to get good at it.”

 

Sam’s voice went slurred again and Gabriel was reminded that he was dealing with a supremely drunk giant.

 

“Not to change our topic of conversation from this fascinating subject, but we need to be getting you home. Where do you even live? It has to be close if you run to the shop every morning.”

 

Gabriel started to look more intently at his surroundings, realizing that he had managed to walk some sort of angst circle before he ran into Sam.

 

Sam tugged him up a side street and towards a town house that looked exactly like the others next to it. He walked up the steps and to the front door, but when he pulled out his keys he promptly dropped them on the _You are NOT welcome!_ mat. He leaned against the door and let out the most pitiful whine Gabriel had ever heard.

 

“Here let me you big baby.” He squatted down while snorting at the mat. “I’m digging the decorations,” he said nodding at the mildly offensive piece.

 

Sam giggled. “It was Dean’s idea,” he responded with a fond smile on his face. “To give him credit, it does happen to work. We haven’t had anyone we don’t know come knocking on our door since he put it down.”

 

Gabriel finally found the right key and swung the door open, then gestured for Sam to go first.

 

“If your brother is here I don’t want him thinking I jumped you and stole your keys,” he replied to Sam’s inquiring look.

 

The Winchester snorted, “ Nice forethought.”

 

He stepped into the house and shouted at the top of his lungs, “HONEY I’M HOME!”

 

It was then Gabriel’s turn to giggle. “Is that how you always greet each other?”

 

Sam huffed out a laugh, “Naw, but Dean’s been calling me all night and he has probably worried himself sick. I hoped that would break the ice. He doesn’t seem to be in though.” Sam looked thoughtful.

 

He walked forward and fell over a table. “Ouch. Where did that come from?” Sam glared at the offending piece of furniture as if it had walked into his path on purpose.

 

He struggled to get up and eventually Gabriel had to go forward and help the young man up. “Alright let’s get you to bed. Point me in the right direction.”

 

Sam made a wiggly hand gesture that vaguely pointed up the stairs to the second level.

 

When they reached the base of the stairs Sam just gave up and started crawling up them like a child. Gabriel wanted to be amused but it really was pitiful to see such a powerful man reduced to climbing up stairs on his hands and knees.

 

When they reached the top Sam used the rail to heave himself off the floor and continue to stumble towards his bedroom. He pushed against his door and stepped into his room, Gabriel close behind him.

 

Sam started stripping off his shirt and Gabriel wanted to be appreciative but as each strip of skin was revealed he only became more and more horrified.

 

Sam’s entire back was a mess of deep scars. They looked painful. Some looked like they had come from a bull whip, others looked like burns, and there were some that looked like they had been carved into his skin with a knife.

 

Gabriel knew one thing; Sam Winchester had, sometime in his past, been kidnapped and tortured.  He tore his eyes away from the mess of scar tissue only to realize the younger man had passed out face down on his bed in nothing but his boxers.

 

Gabe rushed over and pulled the covers over Sam and then walked into the adjoining bathroom. He grabbed the glass on the counter and filled it with water. He then located some aspirin in the cabinet and set them both on his bedside table.

 

He brushed his hand over the scars lightly but jerked back when the heard someone clearing their throat from the doorway. Standing there was no one other than Dean Winchester in the flesh with a murderous expression on his face. 

 

_What a way to meet the eldest Winchester._


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok so things are starting to get a little triggery so just a fair warning. This is not a happy chapter. The next couple chapters will not be happy either. Although this one doesn't get graphic I just wanted to make sure everyone is aware.

The expression on what had to be Dean Winchester’s face was nothing short of murderous. His arms were crossed across his chest and although he wasn’t as tall as Sam he was still significantly taller than Gabriel.

 

Gabriel slowly but deliberately turned back to Sam and covered him up completely before facing the eldest Winchester and matching his hostile pose.

 

“I found him about a mile down the road stumbling out of some dive bar completely drunk off his ass. I walked him home and put him in bed. That is all. Nothing happened.” Gabriel’s voice wavered a bit. _He was a grown man damn it. He doesn’t cower before older brothers anymore._

Dean smirked and it made him look even more intimidating. “Oh I know. Even drunk off his ass Sam would never let anyone touch him he didn’t want touching him.”

 

Gabriel went out on a limb, “ Is it because of what happened to him?”

 

Dean’s face went through a myriad of expressions; guilt, anger, suspicion, and settled on resignation. He motioned for Gabriel to follow him out of Sam’s bedroom.

 

“I don’t want to do this here,” he explained.

 

Gabe followed Dean out the door and down the stairs with much trepidation. He didn’t know if the older Winchester was going to kick his ass or just kick him out but he wanted to be prepared.

 

Dean was in the kitchen pouring himself a drink, straight whiskey is what it looked like.  He turned to the shorter man and looked him in the eye.

 

“When Sam was six months old to the day our mother was killed in his nursery and later our house was set on fire. The man who did it was notorious for taking sleeping children in their beds; claimed he was creating some perfect army. He would either take them as babies and raise them or as older children and break them then brainwash them. He failed to get Sam that night because our mom got in the way.”

 

By this time Dean’s voice had no tone left. He was staring into his glass like it had all the answers to the universe.

 

He continued in the same toneless voice, “From that day on Dad devoted his life to finding this son of a bitch. We were dragged from coast to coast. We lived out of motel rooms and the back of his Impala ’67. We never spent more than a month in the same city. It was awful. He woke us up every morning to train. We leaned to hunt, not animals mind you, but people.

 

“We learned to fight, shoot, stab, kill, and anything else that might be of use to him. He was single minded in his hunt for this man. Sam hated it. All he wanted was a normal life.”

 

Dean looked up at Gabe then and his eyes were filled with tears.

 

“I wish I could have stopped it. I wish I could have saved Sam from this. I was his big brother. IT WAS MY JOB!”

 

Gabe flinched when the glass went flying across the room. He looked at the shattered remains of the glass and then back to Dean. His chest was heaving and he looked ready to break.

 

Dean continued on, “Well years go by and suddenly Dad catches a whiff of him. Only it turns out the ‘him’ are two men working together; Azaziel and Alistair. Demony names right?

 

“Azaziel takes the children and rears them into the perfect army while Alistair takes the older ones and breaks their minds down into mush then builds it back up into the perfect little soldier.

 

“Well they take Sam. 12 years later they are successful in their venture. Azaziel tried to get him the first time in his nursery, but Alistair got him the second time since he was older.”

 

This time Dean does break. The tears start streaming down his face. “They took my brother away from me.”

 

Gabriel walks around the counter and puts his and on Dean’s shoulder. The Winchester slumps down onto the counter.

 

A few minutes later Dean after Dean has composed himself he pushes himself onto his forearms and fixes the shorter man with a piercing stare.

 

“You get one question. So choose wisely.” He then turns to get another glass but Gabriel doesn’t even need to think.

 

“Is Sam alright?”

 

Dean turns back with a sharp look. “What?”

 

“Is. Sam. Alright? He seems pretty messed up still. It’s been months of me awkwardly trying to woo him with coffee and talk about art and he has just barely let me in.”

 

Dean started to gape, “I’ve done the one question spiel more times than I can count and you are the first person to ask if Sam is ok.”

 

It is then Gabriel’s turn to look confused, “What do they normally ask?”

 

“They always ask what those two sickos did to him while he was kidnapped.”

 

Gabriel looked taken aback, “Really? They ask that? It’s obvious that he was brutally tortured. I saw the scars on his back but I would only ever get that information from Sam himself. If he wanted to tell me then fine but I don’t want to know if he doesn’t want to tell me. I would never ask you.”

 

Dean looks at him with something akin to respect in his eyes.

 

“ Which does bring me to my next question. Why are you telling me this? Out of everyone in the world, why me? I’m just some random guy off the streets. You have no idea who I am?” Gabriel asked perplexed.

 

“That’s not entirely true. My shop is just a couple blocks down from your coffee place. I’m in there all the time.” Dean looked almost sheepish. “I’m also sorta dating your brother,” he said in a small voice.

 

“My brother?” Gabriel asked dumbly.

 

“Yeah your brother. You know about yay high.” He gestures about eye level. “Kinda clueless about the ways of the world. Deep voice. Blue eyes that could kill a man. Always wearing a trench coat. Takes everything literally.”

 

“Oohh that brother,” Gabriel was surprised. A man like Dean screamed heterosexuality. _Well he does seem a little butch and he is Castiel’s type. No wonder Cas is always late for his shift._

“Ok now it’s my turn to be protective older brother. How long have you been seeing Castiel? How did you meet him? Is he just an experiment in men before you go back to some girlfriend?” While he was talking Gabriel stalked toward Dean and he seemed to shrink under the onslaught of questions.

 

“Woah there short stack. I have been seeing Cas _exclusively_ for going on four months now. We met when he made me coffee and I will have you know that I have been an out of the closet bisexual ever since I took Sam and ran from our father on my 18th birthday. There is no girlfriend.

 

“Now what about you? What are your attentions toward me brother? I’ve heard your name followed by several girlish sighs in the past. You had better not hurt my brother. He’s been through enough already.”

 

Gabriel does a happy dance, internally mind you. “He’s mentioned me?”

 

Dean rolls his eyes so hard it looks like they may roll out of his head. “Ok I can see the chic flick already. You two need to get your shit together and soon. I’m going to bed cause it’s late. You are welcome to the couch but if I catch you sneaking into Sam’s room remember I have weapons stashed within reach no matter where I am in this house.”

 

With that Dean turned out the light, walked up the stairs and Gabriel was left to contemplate in the dark.


	9. A quiet moment

This couch had to be the comfiest and the largest couch that Gabriel had ever had the pleasure of sleeping on. Those Winchesters sure knew their furniture. _I wonder if it would fit both Sam and me? Couch cuddle sessions would be the best. I could pet his hair and he could feed me candy and we could watch Top Gun._

Dean’s admission that Sam had been talking about him made Gabe hopeful. He wants to lure the younger Winchester out of his shell. He wants to see if there was a future there. After he heard Sam’s interpretation of his artwork he knew there was something deeper to explore there. He has been painting like mad these past couple months. He believes that Sam could be his muse. He drifts off to thoughts of what their life could be like together. _Maybe we’ll get a dog; a really big one that Sam can chase around our backyard._

***

 

Sam wakes up and immediately feels like he got hit by a train. His stomach is in knots and his head hurts like a son of a bitch. He drags his eyes open and squints in the midday light. He glances at his bedside clock and sees it blocked by some Tylenol and water. He takes two of the pain killers and downs the whole glass of water. _Either drunk me was thoughtful or someone put me to bed._

He blinks. The evening floods back in a blinding rush.

 

“Shit!”

 

***

 

Downstairs Dean is making pancakes, bacon, and eggs while Gabriel is making stupid commentary when they hear a shout. “SHIT!”

 

Dean grins. “Looks like Aurora is awake.”

 

Gabriel glances up the stairs, “I’m surprised you know that reference.”

 

“What? A dude can’t like Disney movies? I’ll have you know that I not only have seen every single Disney princess movie in existence, but I also can quote most of them by heart.”

 

Gabe looks at him bemusedly.

 

“Hey! There wasn’t a lot to do in those endless motel rooms. Stop smirking at me and I’ll tell you Sammy’s favorite.”

 

Gabriel puts on his best ‘innocent’ face. It doesn’t fool anyone.

 

“Is it Cinderella? I’ll bet it’s Cinderella,” Gabriel’s eyes danced.

 

“No, It was The Little Mermaid actually.” Sam answered as he came down the stairs. He blearily eyed them both before turning on some cow eyes and facing Dean.

 

“Yes Sleeping Beauty there’s coffee. No need for The Puppy Dog FaceTM, and what do you mean ‘was’? I saw you watching that movie last week.”

 

“Shut up jerk.”

 

“You first bitch.”

 

Gabriel could tell that these two unequivocally loved each other. It was nice to see a functional family for once. He and Cas loved each other sure but they were just two among a sea of brothers who couldn’t stand the rest. He watched as the two moved seamlessly around each other in a dance that had been practiced over many years. _Wow Sam looks really cute first thing in the morning, hair all mussed, eyes half lidded. He looks so soft. So innocent._

 

Gabriel was so lost in his own musings that he almost missed Sam’s question.

 

“Not that I mind you being here, but don’t you have a shop to run?”

 

“Oh my shop? Yeah Castiel is opening today. I took today off.”

 

At this, Dean perked up and started to inch his way towards the door. “Hey guys. Not that I don’t like you two, but I suddenly feel the need for some fancy overpriced coffee.”

 

 "Hey my coffee is not overpriced!"

 

Dean grabbed his leather jacket, shoved his boots on his feet, and walked out the door.

 

The air suddenly went chilly. Sam was hunched over looking distinctly embarrassed and Gabriel could not have that.

 

“Ok so just because Dean wants to go make out with my little brother does not mean that I am missing out on this awesome breakfast.”

 

Sam snorted, “He hasn’t officially told me about Castiel yet but I know. He isn’t exactly the most subtle of people.”

 

Sam started dishing out the food and it was like the floodgates opened.

 

“So I am so sorry for what happened last night. I was pushy and grabby and probably overbearing. I know I over shared. I don’t normally do that but yesterday was a hard day. I am going to try to start to deal with it. I got someone’s business card last night in the bar. She says she can help with my PTSD and stuff. I want to try and maybe do something with you, unless you don’t want to do that, then forget I said anything and we can just be friends. I know I have a lot of problems and I want to deal with the-“

 

Gabriel placed his hand over Sam’s mouth.

 

“Just stop talking. I know you are dealing with some shit. I don’t know everything but Dean gave me the rundown last night when I brought you home and I-”

 

“Dean told you!?”

 

“Ok don’t interrupt. He told me about your crazy childhood and your mom getting murdered and you getting kidnapped by crazies but he didn’t tell me what happened, and I don’t want to know unless you are willing to tell me yourself. If you don’t want me to know then fine, but I have to hear it from you and you alone. I would like to try something with you as well. We can go as slow or as fast as you like. I really enjoy your company Sam Winchester. I would love to get to know you better.”

 

At this Sam leaned down and kissed him. It wasn’t earth shattering, fireworks didn’t go off, and he definitely didn’t hear any birds singing but it was still one of the best kisses he has ever had. It was just a gentle press of lips. He wasn’t sure if Sam was ready for more so he kept it chaste. He took Sam’s face in his hands and gently rubbed his cheeks. _Oh how I want to cherish you._  He pulled back. Sam sighed and rested his forehead against Gabe’s.

 

The world went on.

 

The front door opened.

 

Dean came rushing back in. “Forgot my wallet and keys-Hey! No chic flick moments in the kitchen!”

 

Sam flicked his brother off and returned to his pancakes. Gabriel took the more childish route and stuck his tongue out. Dean left.

 

They smiled at each other over breakfast…well brunch. Yes this could be the start of something good.

***

"You wanna go spy Dean and Castiel?"

"Oh hells yeah!"


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so fudging sorry that I haven't updated this in so long. It isn't abandoned. I just haven't had much motivation to write. I have moved twice in the last six months so it's been hectic.

Dean walked into the coffee shop and saw that the morning crowd had already left. That meant Cas was probably in the back getting supplies to restock. He grinned and walked over to the counter and went around it into the storeroom.

 

As predicted Castiel was standing in front of several cardboard boxes with a clipboard in his hand and a distant expression on his face. Dean decided to take advantage of his preoccupied boyfriend and crept up behind him.

 

“Hello Dean.”

 

Dean jumped. “How did you know I was here?”

 

“I heard the door open and when I didn’t hear anyone ring the counter bell or shout for service I knew it was you.”

 

Dean refused to be impressed. “Our brothers finally got their shit together. I left them staring soulfully into each others eyes this morning.”

 

Castiel turned and tucked his pen behind his ear. “I’m glad. I was getting tired of Gabriel’s pining.” He stepped up to Dean and tilted his head back.

 

Dean got the picture. He leaned down and kissed him. Castiel sighed. “Does that mean you’ll finally tell your brother about us?”

 

Dean frowned. “I didn’t know it was bothering you.”

 

“I know that you don’t want your brother to think you are abandoning him for me, but you should give him more credit that that.”

 

Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel’s middle. “I know that. He’s just been going through a tough time lately. I made him go to therapy when he was younger and I know that it helped, but he may need to start seeing someone again with what happened recently.”

 

Castiel smiled. “You are a good brother.”

 

Dean smirked. “Now where were we?” He kissed Castiel again and it quickly went from sweet to filthy. Dean had just shoved Cas into the shelving and taken his lip in his teeth when he heard snickering from the doorway.

 

Castiel whimpered from the loss of Dean’s heat when he pulled away and glared at the entrance to the storeroom. Castiel followed his gaze and saw both Sam and Gabriel laughing at them.

 

Castiel regretfully pulled away from Dean expecting him to find someway to explain all this away, but Dean didn’t let him. He looked up curiously at his lover.

Dean turned toward his brother and pulled Castiel with him. He put an arm around the shorter man’s waist and said, “Long time no see Sam.” He started, sarcasticly. “This is Cast-“

 

“I know who he is. You aren’t the most subtle of people.” He then turned and said, “Hey Cas.”

 

“Hello Sam. Hello Gabriel.” He then glared at his older brother, “What are you doing here?”

 

Gabe laughed, “I have to make sure my little bro is doing his job right. I don’t want my shop to explode while I’m gone. Besides, aren’t you a little old to be necking in the storeroom? You have coffee to sell.”

 

Castiel growled, “There wasn’t anyone to sell coffee to.” He stalked past them into the main coffee shop grumbling under his breath, but there was a distinct pink hue to his cheeks. He took up a wet rag and started absentmindedly wiping the already clean tables.

 

Gabriel smirked at Dean. “Shame on you for distracting my employee from doing his proper job.” Sam finally stepped in.

 

“Come on. It’s not like you have any room to talk.”

 

Gabriel gasped. “I’ve been betrayed!” He put his hand over his heart and play fainted. He started to fall backwards into Sam’s arms but the taller man quickly sidestepped the overly dramatic man. Gabriel fell into the doorway and stumbled.

 

“Traitor!” he yelled. Sam laughed and then grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the door. He turned back to his brother and waved. “I’ll see you at home.”

 

“You had better answer your phone this time bitch!”

 

“Not if I call you first jerk.”

 

**

 

Sam kept Gabriel’s hand in his and started walking towards his car.

 

“Whoa Sam. Where are we going?”

 

Sam turned. “Do you trust me?”

 

Gabriel thought about it. “Yes.”

 

“Ok then. Trust me and I’ll show you.” He then opened the passenger door of his brother’s “67 Impala.

 

“We need to be very far away from here when Dean discovers that I nicked his keys.”

 

“That was a very sneaky pickpocket.”

 

Sam smiled softly. “He didn’t even notice. He’s out of practice. If this is the only way to teach him then so be it.” He started the engine and peeled out of the small public parking lot. He glanced in the rear view mirror just in time to see Dean rush out of the café yelling. Just a moment later his phone started ringing.

 

Sam glanced at it then looked pointedly at Gabriel. Gabriel laughed and picked it up.

 

“Loki’s Candy Shop. You want some sugar?” he said into the phone seductively.

 

He had to pull the phone away from his ear because of Dean’s shouting. He put the phone on speaker. “ –there’s one scratch on Baby I’m going to take it out of your hide.”

 

Sam laughed, a loud boisterous laugh. One of the likes Gabriel had never heard from him. _I’m going to give him a reason to laugh like that everyday._

“Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of her. I’ll even fill her up on my way back. I just needed to get out of the city.” Dean grumbled. “Fine, but I want you home before dark.”

 

“Yes mom!” Sam whined then nodded at Gabriel. He ended the call.

 

“Out of the city?”

 

“Yeah I was getting kind of tired of all the noise.” He then took Gabriel’s hand and for the rest of the drive there was just companionable silence.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *So I know Bobby’s place isn’t in California. Just bear (lol) with me here. I’m taking some liberties.
> 
> Also Trigger Warning.

 

 

They drove for maybe an hour before Sam pulled into an old junk yard; Singer Salvage Yard was printed on the run down sign.

 

Gabriel turned to Sam. “You didn’t bring me all the way out here to murder me did you?”

 

Sam looked startled then looked around. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah I guess it does look pretty spooky out here.” He sounded sheepish.

 

He continued to drive down the dirt lane and stopped in front of a quaint looking house. It would have been prettier with a fresh coat of blue paint and some new shutters but overall it was nice.

 

Sam stepped out of the car and started walking up towards the door. He turned and seemed perplexed when Gabriel wasn’t following him. He walked back to the passenger door. He bent down and kissed him. “Gabe I promise I haven’t brought you here to kill you.” He then grabbed the smaller man’s hand and practically dragged him out of the car.

 

They approached the door hand in hand. Sam didn’t bother knocking but just opened the door and walked in Gabriel close behind.

 

“Bobby!” He called. “You here?”

 

“Do my ears deceive me or is that Sam Winchester I hear?” A gruff sounding man could be heard towards the back. “I’m in the kitchen; come on back.”

 

The two companions started walking to what Gabriel assumed was the kitchen. As he was led through the house he glanced around himself curiously. Every available surface was covered with books; some looked to be very old.

 

A middle-aged man in a baseball cap and flannel was seated at the table in the kitchen and was cleaning guns. Several guns. Gabriel gulped audibly.

 

Sam walked up to the man as he stood and they hugged each other. They both turned as one to an increasingly nervous Gabriel. Sam walked back over, took his hand, and led him over to the older man. He smiled warmly at him and looked back at Bobby.

 

“Gabriel I’d like you to meet my pseudo-uncle, Bobby Singer. Bobby this is Gabriel.”

 

Bobby chuckled under his breath and stuck out his hand. “It’s nice to finally put a name to the face that I’ve heard attached to several sighs.” Sam turned beet red and ducked his head.

 

Gabriel shook the man’s hand and almost winced at how hard his was gripped. Were all these people freakishly strong?

 

Bobby then turned to Sam. “What are you doing all the way out here? I saw you and that brother of yours just two weeks ago.”

 

Sam turned serious. “Alistair was executed yesterday. I just needed to get out of the city.” Bobby looked grave. “Well you know you are welcome here any time. Help yourself to the fridge.”

 

Sam then pulled Gabriel back outside. “Is Alistair the man that took you?”

 

Sam shut his eyes and seemed to bask in the warmth of the sun. _Like a golden retriever._

 

“Yes. I got away from them when I was 12 but he didn’t get caught until I was 15 and didn’t even get sentenced until three years later.”

 

“I almost hate to ask but what happened to the other man?”

 

“Azaziel? I killed him when I was escaping.” He said simply. “Wait here.” Sam went back inside and returned a few minutes later with a cooler and a blanket. He again takes Gabriel’s hand and starts walking in-between rows of broken cars. He gets to a small clearing with a fire pit and an old couch. He puts the blanket on the couch and sits down, beckoning Gabe to follow suit.

 

They sit quietly for a few minutes before Sam starts talking.

 

“My dad was on a hunt and my brother had gone to the store to get us some food when two men broke down the door of the hotel room we was staying in.”

 

**Begin Flashback

 

_Sam is lounging on the bed reading his English assignment when the door is almost blown off it’s hinges. Two men in their late thirties rush in and grab him from the room. He fights back, utilizing everything his father has taught him but it is of no use. He feels a sharp pain on the back of his head and then nothing._

_He wakes up in a cage. This should be more alarming than it is. He knows that if they wanted him dead they would have killed him already. That means they need him for something. He guesses that they are using him to get at his dad. John has made several enemies over the last ten years._

_He looks around, sees a bowl of water off to the side. It is a dog bowl. He doesn’t touch it. There are several other cages all around this dank room. Some empty, other not. He calls to the little girl in the cage next to his._

_“Where are we?” He whispers. She uncurls and looks at him. There are bruises and dried blood all over her face; her blonde hair matted and dirty. She doesn’t answer._

_“What’s your name?” He tries again. “My name’s Sam.”_

_“Jessica.” Is the only reply he gets. Her voice is raspy from disuse._

_A few moments later a steel door opens and a man comes in. He recognizes him. It was one of the men who took him!_

_“Hey!” He calls. “Who are you? What do you want?” The man doesn’t answer. He just goes over to the girl in the cage next to him._

_He starts to jab her with a cattle prod through the bars. “I heard you tell that boy a name! You have no name! You are not worthy of a name! Who are you?”_

_The girl is crying. “Jessica! My name is Jessica Moore!”_

_The man puts the prod down and walks over to a panel with several switches. He flips one and the girl’s cage opens. She bolts. He snatches her by her hair and proceeds to drag her over to a wall and chains her to it. He then grabs a remote hanging from the ceiling and pushes a button._

_She starts to writhe as electricity courses through her body._

_“Who are you?” He begins to yell over and over._

_The girl starts to chant, “Jessica Moore. Jessica Moore. Jessica Moore.”_

_He sneers at her. “This will stop when you tell me who you are!”_

_“Soldier Number 7. I am Soldier Number 7.” She sighs before she passes out from the pain._

_The man takes her down and shoves her limp body back in the cage._

_He then turns to Sam. “You would do well to learn to mind your tongue.” He pauses. “Soldier Number 23.”_

**End Flashback

 

“Oh Sam.” Gabriel tugs the young man into a hug. Sam melts into the embrace.

 

“I don’t want to talk anymore.”

 

“It’s ok Sam. You don’t have to talk.”

 

They finished the sandwiches and packed the cooler up. Sam started to walk back to the house, but Gabriel stopped him. “Let me.”

 

Gabriel took the cooler in the small house and walked back to the kitchen.

 

Hey Mr. Singer? I think we are going to head back to the city.”

 

“Mr. Singer was my father. It’s Bobby to you boy.” Bobby put the guns down and stood. He walked over to the shorter man. “You take care of Sam now you hear? That boy has been through a lot and if you put one toe out of line, I’ll put you so far under the ground you’ll be with the dinosaurs.”

 

Gabriel looked up at the man who was like a father to the Winchester boys and said, “I would rather stop eating candy than hurt Sam.” He put the cooler on the table and smiled. “He is worth dying for.”

 

Bobby looked at him strangely, “Yes but is he worth living for?”

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so yeah. This came to me at like 11 pm and I spent the last 4 hours writing because it would not leave me alone. I hope you like it. As always I LOVE CONSTRUCTIVE CRITISM!!! I will even freely give you my email address. laurenmonroe18@gmail.com. please email me with suggestions, possible ways you think this should go. characterizations. anything. or if you just want to talk i am cool with that too.


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